Kakahead

Hello, my name is Duncan and I enjoy eating. Everything. Especially when it tastes good and is fun to have in my mouth place food taster thing.

For why I call myself Duncan?? Well, it’s the name of a famous brand of yo-yo, and yo-yo describes the method of dieting I find most successful. I mean, there I am, minding my own business, doing rather well at the food control if I must say so myself… Then, suddenly, my pants won’t fit right anymore and I cry for ice cream and Whoppers, not necessarily in that order.

Such a pain this dieting is!! Sure, I could use the excuse that the Holiday season messed me up. After all, I DID eat more during that time. But the bottom line is that I like to eat. It’s one of my favorite hobbies. To make matters worse, I also love to cook.

I grew up before all this fat consciousness stuff started, so I became rather fond of such horrible things as butter and gravy. Mom cooked the veggies until they fell apart, and smothered them with margarine. Of course, when I got out on my own with big money to burn, butter was the only logical choice of healthy fat. After all, I reasoned, it comes straight from the cow. It MUST be good! And it is!! It’s completely yummy. Much better than margarine any day, and the more the health experts discover about hydrogenated oils (also known as trans-fats), the better I feel about butter.

On the other hand, you have greasy fingers and the dreaded Dunlop disease (belly done lopped over the belt). My wife and I got really disciplined for awhile there, and even went out on a limb to try that “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” spray. Not too bad! The ingredients aren’t all that intimidating either, which is pretty refreshing. We still use it, too, but I confess the butter still creeps in every now and again. Moderation is the key, and that works really well when we practice it.

My only gripe about products like “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” is that they contribute to the already overpopulated world of diet gimmicks. I mean, what’s next? I Can’t Believe It’s Not Peanut Butter spray might be pretty neat, don’t you think? Or how about some I Can’t Believe It’s Not A Pork Chop? Or Gravy? Doggone it!! I love those things, and although I refuse to abstain from them completely, I know that I can’t have as much as I might have eaten, say, fifteen years ago. I vaguely remember a time when I could eat just about anything and not gain an ounce.

But I may have been dreaming…

This year our Nazi Health Insurance Providers are promising to reduce our “enhanced benefits” (which are pretty crummy) if we don’t get our Body Mass Index below 30. So I showed those stinky heads, I got off my hiney and got with the program. As a result, an amazing epiphany flew into my brain: when I behave myself and eat correctly and couple that with exercise, I get good blood pressure readings and I feel great. So, my new frame of mind is to remove the concept of dieting from my brain thing and insert the brilliant idea of life change. It all boils down to the fact that if I choose to take care of myself, I can get eventually get off the blood pressure meds. Also, “I’m on a diet,” by nature, insinuates something much more temporary than, “I’m changing my lifestyle.”

Ah well. Back to the carrots and celery for snacking time. Oh, and not to forget the yogurt with rolled oats, and the walnuts with raisins for protein rather than greaseburgers. I’m not complaining, believe it or not; because I love fruits, nuts and my veggies too. For me, eating more natural foods help me feel much better than the gimmick foods. Besides, I feel better about buying them because they are much more ecologically friendly than spray bottles and such.

Only problem with me is, sometimes the natural foods just don’t satisfy a craving so good. I mean, when you’ve had a stressful day at work or whatever, who in their right mind will say, “My day stunk. What I need is some celery!!”? Not this boy. It would be, “I NEED CHOCOLATE!!” Or ICE CREAM. Or A SHAKE!! These are the things that soothe the savage arteries!

I stopped in to say HI to the guys in the Maintenance Department today and they were having pizza.

The aroma wooed my nostrils and my brain started making this MMMMMMMMMMMMMM sound inside my head.

They are my friends. They asked, “hey Ken, you want a piece of pizza?”

I replied, “oh yeah… but I may as well put it right on my butt because that’s were it’ll end up!!” (I didn’t take any.) (Honest!!)

It’s important to enjoy such treats once in awhile, but deep down inside I know I’ll just have to play nice and be a good boy. I’m not getting any younger, and I still have lots to do on the planet yet. So, I have enough common sense to understand that if I clog my circulatory system with goop, I may not be smelling much coffee during the new millenium.

I’ll just have to invent some I Can’t Believe It’s Not A Snickers Bar spray!!

Now Woody, on the other hand, had a much different food issue…

There’s so much sadness in Japan… and nuclear catastrophe to make things even worse.  Here in the US our industry leaders are reassuring us that our nuclear power plants are “completely safe” and “were built to withstand earthquakes.”

A combination of great economic and population growth is what led many nations to lean toward nuclear power as a viable means of supplying an energy thirsty country.   Nuclear power certainly offers the ability to keep up with large demands for electricity.  Scientists and investors have collaborated over the past several decades to bring “safe nuclear energy” to the market place.  However, the world is watching with horror as the Japanese struggle to keep their reactors from completely melting down.

My question is:  how can anyone say nuclear power plants are “completely safe?”  And think about it, are the people of Japan so naïve that they would even consider building plants that would not “withstand earthquakes?”   I’m pretty certain the Japanese are quite aware that they have quakes pretty regularly.

I could mention many reasons why nuclear energy is not safe, not the least of which is the technology’s opportunities for weapons proliferation.  Aside from nuclear weapons; there is a nasty byproduct of nuclear power that is not considered nearly enough.  Nuclear waste stays “hot” for thousands of years; and has to be stored somewhere.

Can anyone really be certain that a nuclear waste dump site will be geologically stable for thousands of years?  Or do we just continue on and let our great-great-grandchildren’s great-great-grandchildren deal with the poisons we are placing in the ground?

There are several “green” energy technologies available to us now; so if we really wanted to, we could greatly reduce our dependence on foreign oil and yes, even walk away from nuclear power in favor of smaller, less toxic options.

The big problem will all of that cockamamie talk is that nuclear power is really BIG business.  And we (meaning we, the taxpayers) are all painfully aware that big business all too often gets what it wants.

I know I say this often, but we can vote to change the world.  Every dollar we spend determines what our world will be like.  Conversely, every dollar we do not spend sends a big message too.  And of course, we mustn’t keep quiet when big business tries to convince us that something is “completely safe” when we know better.  “Green” technologies run on a smaller scale; but may offer the safest alternatives to nuclear power.  Of course, decreasing the demand would be helpful also.  You know, really stupid stuff like turning off the lights in the parking lots of the shopping malls from say 11 PM to 5 AM;  increasing the use (and availability) of transit services rather than having 3,000,000 cars on the road carrying 3,000,000 people to work.

OK… that’s enough of that.  Can you tell I feel strongly about this?

Well sorry folks, but I really don’t want to be anywhere near a nuclear plant if it malfunctions and makes radioactive “poo.”

Here’s how one artist in Japan has used a cartoon to explain the crisis to the youngsters.  (Thanks to my friend Scott for sending me this link today).

I’m not afraid admit it: I’m an antique. When we were kids, Mom would literally tell us “go watch television” to get us out of her hair. Mind you this was mostly when it was too crummy to go outside; but we grew up spending some time in front of the TV.

When family life got stressful, I found myself clinging to the relief provided by good old black and white TV programs and movies. I mostly enjoyed black and white programs because, well, that’s all we had at our house until well into the ‘70s.

Abbott and Costello, The Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy, the Marx Brothers, oh and of course there was Our Gang, the Bowery Boys, Bug Bunny, Felix the Cat, Betty Boop…
I could go on for a very long time.

I count myself as one a privileged generation who were blessed to be wowed by the old time greats, yet also blessed by newer talents of today.

But when life gets really icky, I find myself reaching for the Three Stooges or Marx Brothers DVDs. Or maybe Monty Python. OK, Monty Python episodes were not filmed in glorious black and white, but you get the idea.

So there I was, 10,000 feet in the air, no plane, no parachute… oh wait… different story.

So there I was, working my hiney off, being grumpy, not being very grateful. Silly me, a spoiled American, being grumpy because I am working harder than ever. Many, MANY people in this world would be very happy to have the high-class problems I have. However, I’m human and therefore I get grumpy from time to time.

For me, one of the best remedies for stress is laughter.

Therefore, I’m going to treat you to one of my favorite black and white stress relievers.

Please remember that it’s always better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, “eight” is a word.

OK… now to make with the video!

We love music, and we also have a passion for concerts. My lovely girlfriend and I grew up during the 60s, so one can imagine the influence the music of those days had on our adolescence. When our paths first crossed we were both 17, skinny like stick people and quickly smitten with each other. She was a bra burning peace marcher from the Detroit burbs, I was a transplanted Long Island kid turned country boy. Both of us loved music and embraced the philosophies of equality, peace, and responsible stewardship of our Dear Mother Nature.

One of the best compliments she gave me in those days, was, “you know Ken, you could easily be a hippie.” Me, the short haired kid who had never taken a mind altering substance or even used 4-letter naughty bits in conversation, a hippie? I was flattered. We got married while I was in the Air Force, and from our home base in Tampa, Florida we ventured to concerts too numerous to mention here.

Fast forward 39 years: here we are now, skinny like log people (in other words, not quite so skinny). I have long hair (on the sides anyway… a bit sparse on top) and wear peace sign t-shirts. I’m really really done with mind altering substances; but a 4 year stint in the Air Force has indelibly sprinkled my speech with several 4-letter naughty bits. They are especially audible when I’m stressed.

Since my job got much bigger I seem to be sprinkling a bit more than usual lately…

Anyway, we still love music and love going to concerts. This past October I stumbled upon a notice that Lady Gaga was coming to our area. We actually managed to get in on the pre-sale thanks to a friend who forwarded me an e-mail with a special code. The normal sale date came and the show was sold out in minutes. Of course our seats were in the nosebleed section, but we didn’t care. We bring binoculars!

I called my aunt for her birthday this past Sunday and mentioned we were going to see Lady Gaga. She had no clue who that was, so she paused and asked with her strong Brooklyn accent, “oh… is that a strip teaser?”

“Well kinda,” I replied, “she doesn’t wear a lot of clothes.”

We had seen a few interviews and couldn’t help but like this Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta who calls herself Lady Gaga. Very down to earth, very much the activist for equality. Definitely an “in-your-face” performance style, yet after seeing her perform it’s obvious to both of us that she’s a very capable musician.

So yeah, we went Gaga this past Tuesday. It was a blast. Sort of a cross between Alice Cooper and Madonna. My lovely bride enjoyed it more than me, but we both had fun. Watching the crowd before the show was almost as much fun as the concert. Even though she’s raking in the bucks, this Lady is definitely aware of the folly of all things commercial. Reminds me of another favorite band of ours: Queen.

One of my favorite anecdotes about Lady Gaga is how she got her stage name. Producer Rob Fusari would sing Queen’s “Radio Gaga” every time she came into the studio. He texted her “Radio Gaga” and apparently the autocorrect feature on his handheld changed “Radio” to “Lady.”

The rest, as they say, is history. Or is it “Radio?”